


Need in a Dark Place

by krysnel_nicavis



Series: Flashfics & Ficlets By Me [26]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Determination, Gen, Need, POV First Person, remembering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 19:01:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12637224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krysnel_nicavis/pseuds/krysnel_nicavis
Summary: Castiel tries not to think about all the times he’s died.





	Need in a Dark Place

**Author's Note:**

> This was written **before** 13.04 “The Big Empty” aired.

I try not to think of the last time I died. Actually, I try not to think of _any_ time I died. And, yes. I’ve died a few times in my life. If that makes any sense.

It isn’t easy to kill me. Well. Not _normally_ …

A few times had extenuating circumstances. The rest… well… Let’s just say families can be difficult. I’ll be the first to admit that a handful of them I may have had coming. Maybe six were my own fault for not being careful.

But that’s not important. That’s not even the point.

… Wait. What _was_ my point?

Anyway, my point is that I try, really hard, not to think of the last time I died.

Instead, when I _do_ think about dying, I think about how I _thought_ I’d die. For the vast majority of my life, I’d always figured I’d meet my end in battle. It’s what I was trained for. What I was created for. I am… _was_ … a soldier. Just as my father intended.

What I’d never considered was one of the Arch-Host smiting the crap out of me. My father’s words. He said it looked spectacular. And gross. I also never considered it happening more than once. But, then, I try not to think of that either.

Being torn to pieces from the inside by the creatures my father had originally created Purgatory for was unpleasant. _Distinctly_ unpleasant.

Dying while human had been… confusing. And painful in a way I hadn’t yet experienced. Until then, upon death my consciousness had become aware of the vastness of the universe. Not simply my place in it, but the universe as a whole. On the movements and energy vibrations and the _potential_. The potential to shift and change. To be… _other_. A few times I’d become aware of things as they could have been. Alternate paths this existence could have taken. But dying as a human… I’d blacked out in the world as I knew it, and come to in a world that was something I could remember. Something I liked.

Dean was there. And Sam. They were relaxing, leaning against Baby. They were in between hunts. It’s relaxing in the sun. They were smiling. Laughing at some memory they’d been recounting. Dean had looked up as I approached and out eyes met. And…

And suddenly I was back in the world that was. The real one that I existed in and lived in. And Dean was there. Only this one wasn’t smiling. His features were twisted in worry and there was barely veiled fear in his eyes that mixed with relief. And my gut didn’t hurt anymore. The wounds I was sure the reaper had inflicted upon me were gone as if they had never been.

I’ve died more times that I care to count (264). And I’ve come close even more times (598) — all of which are limited to the last decade.

But this time…

I’d woken up in a vast emptiness. A pit of unending darkness. And I can feel them. Jack. Claire. Sam… _Dean_.

I can feel their sorrow. Their pain and grief. Their heartbreak.

 _His_ heartbreak.

If I concentrate I can see them. Sort of. Just flashes in my mind.

They need me.

I am connected to them. Two in particular. I can feel my connection to them tugging at what is left of me. The wavelength that makes up what I am without corporeal form. The ghost of me, I guess you could say.

It pulls at me. Begging me to return.

I don’t fight it. I need to get back. And this time, I’ll have to do it on my own.

\- 30 -


End file.
